


To Kneel, not Stand - To Obey, not Oppose

by Danger_Scientist



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Brother/Sister Incest, Dubious Consent, F/M, Multi, Sorry Not Sorry, There is plot...somewhere.., Twincest
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-24
Updated: 2016-06-01
Packaged: 2018-06-10 10:12:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6952462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Danger_Scientist/pseuds/Danger_Scientist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Something new is rising. The heartbeat, like drums, echoes across the stars. The vast darkness of space burns beneath their march. The Empire. The Republic. One fallen, rendered as dust beneath their supremacy – the other, on the precipice of mortality’s conclusion. Weakened from their ceaseless quarreling and internal strife, neither will be fit to stand against the grand war machine of the Dark Lord’s Empire. Too consumed by the gluttonous sins of their warring peoples – the Republic, the Empire – too preoccupied by their own affairs to feel the ripples of their approach. </p><p>And when your armies fall, when your walls start to crumble, you will know that your time has come…</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Right now this story has only original characters in it and probably will not ever include canon characters aside from brief mentions. The timeline in which this takes place is a bit hazy as this is written with a mix of EU and TFA elements. For now, I am going to hesitantly place it sometime after TFA and with what I have currently planned for the first few chapters, it will be pretty far removed from the main events of TFA. Once I start incorporating other character viewpoints, we will see some Resistance, First Order, and Knights of Ren involvement, but again probably no canon characters.

Something new is rising. The heartbeat, like drums, echoes across the stars. The vast darkness of space burns beneath their march. The Empire. The Republic. One fallen, rendered as dust beneath their supremacy – the other, on the precipice of mortality’s conclusion. Weakened from their ceaseless quarreling and internal strife, neither will be fit to stand against the grand war machine of the Dark Lord’s Empire. Too consumed by the gluttonous sins of their warring peoples – the Republic, the Empire – too preoccupied by their own affairs to feel the ripples of their approach.

_And when your armies fall, when your walls start to crumble, you will know that your time has come…_

 

* * *

 

Primary Hangar Bay of the _Star Home_  
Star-fortress, Flagship of the Hapan Royal Navy  
Heart of the Galactic Republic – High Orbit over Coruscant

 

And they were fools, such _painfully_ stupid fools, to think that their father would ever provide them with something even remotely resembling encouragement. They are simply extensions of his will sent forth to execute his orders and pave the way for his ascension. For their father this is nothing more than a training exercise – a formality to observe. First, they needed to dismantle the existing galactic government before they can seize on the chaos left in their wake and move on the galaxy at large.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see his sister trembling behind Mephistion, the Sith Sorcerer. Is it rage? Was she about to lose control? Since the Dark Lord had taken them from their broken homeworld of Arkania, he had braved his sister’s rages and calmed the onslaught of the following storms. His sister is strong, but she cannot handle their father’s indifference and the cruelty of his words.

_[“Your privilege is the dirt.”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Nzq9epS2b1A) _

Propped up on display for their father, preening and posturing for the Dark Lord’s attention. She is a princess, he is a prince. There is no time to be children anymore. Not when their father expects them to become so much more beyond their wildest imaginations – they will be figureheads in the years to come when Hapes will be the center of the universe upon the forging of the Dark Lord’s Empire. She is a princess and he is a prince, there is only time.

She has come into her own, more raw power at her disposal than anyone that has come before. It makes her reckless and negligent. He has learned restraint, control over his powers unparalleled. It is what makes him dangerous and ultimately, her saviour. She is nothing, her father tells her. A parasite attached to his side. Still he protects her, offers her his outstretched hand to pick her up off the ground.

Her smiles mean the galaxy to him and her laughter lets him know that he is not alone in this vast universe. They are together, together whispering to one another in the dead of night while they lay side by side in bed. Together they stand in the arena, back to back, as they face down their father. And when she struggles, when her temper gets the better of her and she slips up, groping for purchase – he is there to offer her his hand, a stalwart companion to let her know she is not alone.

 _To love, it is a_ _vulnerability_ , their father says. _Do not beg me to ignore how it weakens you._ Their father’s words sting like the barbs of an Arkanian jellyfish. They stand there like two little soldiers, for that is all they are and all they will ever be. Not a son, not a daughter to the Dark Lord that stands over them. They were merely weapons, an extension of the Dark Lord’s ambition.

A shadow falls across them; they dare not meet his gaze. _She is nothing. She will never be anything._

The fact that he has no parting words for them now, did not even bother to acknowledge them – it is almost worse for her. Burning hotter than an O-type star, swirling fiercer than the tempest of a hurricane, and threatening to boil over at the slightest provocation – he could feel a rage building inside of her. A rage he did not share.

Slowly, cautiously he reaches out and grasps her hand in his, unsure as to whether she would be receptive to his advances or lash out in violence; the surging, seething hunger taking control of her. Continuing to watch her, she flinches slightly as his skin comes into contact with hers. In this moment, she is the most beautiful woman in the universe to him.

Looking over to her brother, the amber slowly fades from her eyes as they toss Mephistion to the ravenous hunger of their father’s cruelty and turn away to the shuttle, stealing a few moments alone.

War is coming, and she does not want to allow herself to feel. War is coming, and his control is nonpareil, but he allows himself to steal this one moment. His body an unyielding mass of muscle beneath the combat armour he dons for this occasion, he crowds her up against the bulkhead, placing a hand on either side of her head as he meets her gaze. The amber had all but faded from the silvery harsh stare she shared with him. “Rhaezion…” She says quietly, her voice not much more than a whisper, but a dire warning all the same. She knew what he was doing and through their bond, could feel his emotions surging with untamed fury just beneath the surface of his self-imposed control. For years, they had both played this game – he pursued her and she had allowed it, against her better judgement. “I do not need him. I never needed him…One day I will make him regret it, all of it..” He did not try to deny the weight of what his sister had endured from their father, but still he loved him all the same.

With a sudden urgency, he crushes his lips into hers. He does not lie to himself, he loves his sister more. Reluctantly, she eventually shoves him off of her and he relents for just a moment, leaving her lips aching and swollen. “Rhaezion….stop..” He lowers his head back down and meets her gaze. She is both his rival and in every way his equal. Looking as if he is going to press his luck again, he stops just short, his breath hovering on her lips. “No…Iztara..” He whispers back before his hands wander beneath the curtails of her thin tunic, as she had yet to appropriately attire herself for the mission at hand. His hands explore the wide expanse of her warmed flesh, caressing up her sides and pulling her to him as he lays open-mouthed kisses along the curvature of her neck. Gasping as he sinks his teeth into the flesh at the base of her neck, Iztara yields and leans her head to the side, presenting herself to him. However, it does not come without cost as he continues forth – the sweet sting of her nails digging into his scalp as she tangles her fingers in his long white hair only serves to drive him onward. Fingers ghosting over his sister’s nipples, he smiles into the flesh of her neck as they harden into well-defined points without haste. He always did have a way with her – her body always so seemingly eager to respond to his touch, whether she wanted it to or not. Twisting one of her pale nipples between two fingers, he waits until she elicits a small, soft moan before ceasing in his ministrations.

“You are mine.” The Dark Prince growls lowly in her ear, pressing his body into her own such that he was suddenly, terrifyingly close. Iztara slowly opens her eyes and levels her azure gaze on her twin as he draws back to face her. The moment stretches and elongates, her glare darkening by the second. “I belong to no one. Least of all you.” She proudly sneers, knowing full well that he would be no match for her should she wish to challenge him. Raw Force power would beat out exquisite control any day. He knew it too, but his male pride would never allow him to admit as much. Looming over her, he does not waiver as he asserts his dominance and it is then that she can feel the hardness of his erection pressing into her lower stomach. Stepping back only enough so that she has room to breathe, Rhaezion locks his gaze with hers. “Turn around. Hands on the wall.” He takes a tone with her that she had seldom heard before, a tone that brooks no question. She found that his proximity to her and the quiet command in his voice nearly had her complying within seconds. Almost. Not quite.

“Do not make me tell you again. You will not like what happens.” He said warningly and she knew precisely what he threatened – her innocence. She fixes him with a look, azure eyes wide open and uncertain as to whether the sensation currently eliciting a tingling feeling, simmering across her skin, could be considered fear or the desire she desperately sought to hide from him. Immediately, she turns and places a hand on either side of her head against the bulkhead of the shuttle. As her brother eases into her, grinding his pelvis into her backside, she leans her forehead against the cabin wall – the feeling of the durasteel a cool balm against the scorching heat of her skin. Iztara’s breath quickens and she swallows nervously upon feeling Rhaezion’s hands slither around her waist, gliding over the rounded contours of her curvy hips. Her skin prickles with goosebumps as her heartbeat accelerates, an echo of her brother’s. Feeling him smile against the patrician arches of her cheek, Iztara allows a soft hum of approval to escape past her lips when one of his hands slides down the front of her leggings and the tip of his finger gently seeks out her clit, caressing it beneath the protection of its fleshy hood. Her hips buck against the roughness of the sensation and her brother rewards her with a slap to her backside, his hand pausing to rub down the outside of her thigh before slipping down to grasp himself. Pulling his cock from his pants, the corner of his lips curls up in a smirk as he notes his sister hazarding a glance over her shoulder to look at him. Her lingering gaze is enough to cause him to twitch, which results in her hurriedly turning her eyes back toward the bulkhead. She is still so innocent, he reminds himself.

By Galactic standards, she is considered a woman, at the tender age of 25. However, Rhaezion sure had a way of making her feel like such a child. Deft fingers slip between her legs and without prompting, she slides her feet apart with a groan of anticipation. The Dark Prince presses into her backside and she can feel him stroking himself in time with the probing of his hand. She is not overly wet, so it is with some effort that he finally thrusts a single finger into her. He does not delve too deeply upon brushing against and stretching her hymen – that, he hoped, would be his to claim later. Swallowing down another moan, Iztara does not wish to give her brother the satisfaction of knowing he could pleasure her to such ends, it would not do to inflate his ego even further. Rolling her hips in time with the thrusting of his finger and inadvertent brushing of his thumb against her clit, she could feel a heat building deep inside her. Yet quite suddenly, she finds herself bereft of her brother’s fingers, causing her impending climax to fizzle before dying out – there was no proper end as she had been led to believe. Without warning, Rhaezion turned her toward him and pushed her to knees, a flash of caution reflecting in his eyes as she sunk to the ground.

Looking up at him rather irritatedly, Iztara sat back on her heels as he thrust the head of his cock toward her full lips. Turning her head from him, she glances at him out of the corner of her eye as she runs her tongue along her lips to moisten them. Finally complying, she tentatively flicks her tongue around the tip of his cock before gently grazing her teeth across his sensitive skin, eliciting a rather primal noise deep in her brother’s throat. “Iztara…” He growls, looking down at her as she fixed him with her icy blue eyes, teasing him out of spite. It did not take long for Rhaezion to catch on to her game. “Behave..” He warned, gazing at her pointedly as he languidly raised a hand to stroke along her cheek with the back of his knuckles. Pulling his cock from her mouth with a sucking pop, he runs the head of it along her lower lip. How he enjoyed the velvety warmth of her mouth, the soft caress of her plump lips as they wrapped around his shaft, but how he longed to take all of her other holes even more. It is with great restraint that he looks down at his sister, his eyes hooded with something like lust, as he tangles slender fingers in the long white strands of her hair. Taking hold of her head, he thrusts several times into her mouth, imagining instead that he is burying his cock in her tight cunt. His first few thrusts are rather shallow until he begins to feel his climax start to build – those that follow becoming increasingly deeper and quicker as he fully sheathes himself in Iztara’s mouth, saliva dripping down the side of her face as he slips in and out of her throat. Her nostrils flare as she stares up at him with eyes so icy blue he is sure that her heart has frozen over too. Finally, he buries himself deep down her throat and it is all she can do not to gag as he pauses there to release himself. Her mouth fills to overflowing with his cum and a single white strand of the warm fluid escapes her lips, rolling down the side of her chin. The Dark Prince pulls himself free of her mouth with an echoing pop as her lips release their hold. “Good girl.” She perks up as he praises her and reaches down to wipe his ejaculate from her chin, brushing his thumb across her lower lip. “Now clean me.” He commanded her in such a manner that she found herself immediately complying with his orders before her brain had even processed the words. Rhaezion had not softened much after releasing in her mouth, so she found it quite easy to abide by his demands – running her tongue up and down his length to lap up every last bit of his cum. Once she finished, he reached down to tuck himself back into his pants, pausing to look at her just long enough to reignite the fiery desire he had awakened earlier.

Abruptly turning away from her, the Dark Prince remains silent, brooding – sliding into the co-pilot’s seat as if nothing had happened between them. Iztara knew he was aware of her arousal and subsequent frustration; this was part of the game, to see how long he could string her along until she broke down and begged him for release. One day she will gain the upper hand on him, but he knows that he is safe for now.

Never once had he questioned the feelings he held for his sister and never once had he received any inkling of the potential inappropriateness of his actions. If anything, they had been encouraged to chase after one another and their circumstances were really not all too surprising. The Dark Lord, their father, had rescued them from the darkness that descended upon their homeworld and from that moment on, they did not come into contact with many others. It was a calculated measure – to restrict the twins’ interaction to their father, Mephistion, and adopted mother. Limiting their exposure to others made them easier to control, ensuring that both the Dark Lord and Sorcerer became their whole world. Yet in the face of such isolation, they managed to find comfort in one another.

For a second time, he does not lie to himself and hope that there is something deep down inside them both that might be considered untainted. Neither of them were ever intended to be good. The Dark Lord saw to that.

War is coming, and it is time…


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short update this time without any smut, which is disappointing, but work has been rather demanding this week. Next week's update will make up for it. That or the spin-off stories I am thinking of posting this week will. Depends on how long it takes me to edit everything.
> 
> I always appreciate feedback, though, since scientific writing is my forte and this is a bit out of my comfort zone (I like challenges).

They are born into privilege and told to forget it. He is a prince. She is a princess. It is their birthright. Alas, the life of a Jedi is full of sacrifice. It was imposed upon them from the start, leaving no room for free will or choice.

What an honour it is to be singled out to become one of the chosen, one of the Jedi. What a privilege it is to serve and to have the opportunity to prove that they are worthy of such a birthright. There is no such thing as too young for them to be aware of such a fate. It is a heavy weight for children to bear, but they have known no life without it.

_["With your birth comes a solemn vow, you will have nothing."](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Nzq9epS2b1A) _

They are born in the midst of the struggle for survival, lacking identity and the direction of a father. At first, this is not something they seek, it is merely instantiation of the vow wrought of their birth. They will have nothing, they are nothing. That is why the Dark Lord took them from her.

Neither of the twins had been aware that Mephistion had been observing them from the very moment Rhaezion had crushed his lips into his sister’s. That is not to say that neither would have cared if only they had known the Sorcerer had been privy to their display of affection. As it remains, both had been too wrapped up in one another to even notice this time or any other time the Sorcerer had stumbled upon them.

They now had anything and everything they could have ever desired at their fingertips, but that did not preclude them from the madness that had set in. When the Dark Lord stole them from their home, isolation was their only consolation. She found solace in him, he was her anchor to this world. He found solace in her, she was the flesh that sated his passion. Both hiding from the painful reality that had become their lives, their solitary confinement. They are careful, for if the Dark Lord ever discovered their secret, they knew not the consequences.

She runs her fingers across her lips, burning with longing under his touch. How long was she going to let him get away with this? Out of the corner of her eye, she could see him smirking before his lips straightened into a thin line. He quickly busies himself with beginning the start-up sequence for the shuttle as a sudden coldness descended upon the cabin, decimating any remaining desires. With the blatant disregard of one who held himself superior to all and the frame of a starving man, the Sorcerer Mephistion made himself known. And she is beautiful in her defiance as she stands unmoved, ruthless disregard for protocol.

_You can only find your power through others,_ the Sorcerer told her in his raspy voice, taking pleasure in her discomfort at his gaze. _And you are alone, you will always be alone._ They are only eighteen. Her brother stands there watching, the list of her failings never-ending and he can slowly feel her control begin to wane. She does not always take to such lectures with the same quiet shame that he does. And he wonders briefly what would happen were she to surrender, to summon a defense and argue in her own favour.

_It is a weakness,_ the Sorcerer whispers to him just loud enough for her to hear, _to allow another to rely so heavily on you._ He loves her, despite the cost. _It is foolish to invest so much in her, to trust…_ The Sorcerer’s lecherous gaze rests on her, _to love…_ Rhaezion loves his sister, his rival, despite the warnings.

She is groomed to believe that she is nothing, and he is _terrified_. She is strong, but her patience is short and her frustrations become harder and harder to hide. The silence between the twins and the Sorcerer deepens, lengthens. Panic swells in his breast, desperation. When she wakes, the universe will quake, galaxies will cower, and worlds will cry out in fear. The amber slowly flares to life within the silver confines of her eyes, and she surrenders. I feel it like fire burning through my veins and see the panic in my brother’s eyes as I flex my fist at my side.

He can feel the darkness seeping in, the power his sister succumbs to, luring him with unspoken promises, but he stands firm. He looks upon his sister, and he is _terrified._ A shadow falls across her face and he finally knows that he cannot heal the rage burning within her. Words barely pierce the fog surrounding her, she knows her brother spoke, but she is dizzy with rage, violently so. When the Sorcerer turns his back on her, unconcerned, she surrenders. It is a relief to release so much pent up power. The concussive force behind the wave that repulses and violently explodes outward from her body shatters all the glass in the room, sending shards flying in every direction. The Sorcerer is knocked to the ground, but faster than she can comprehend – her body is flying across the room as he uses the Force to propel her into the wall.

She groans, but otherwise remains silent despite the fact that all of the bones in her right leg shattered on impact. She learned not to cry out the hard way. Quicker than she thought possible, the Sorcerer is on her and her face burns as the thin line of a cut traces perfectly across her cheekbone, backhanded by the skeletal hand of justice. Her nose now shattered, blood drips down her face. I try to reach for the calm and quietness of my power, but all I feel is numb. I can feel the Sorcerer’s hand tightening around my neck, daring me to oppose him again. This is the first time and he has ensured it will be the last.

Rage burns in the depths of his endless eye sockets and I can feel the seething surge of the Force around him as he tries to hold back, resisting the urge to annihilate me. _You are pathetic,_ he spits before releasing his hold on my neck. Leg shattered, I instantly collapse to the ground and do not cry, despite my femur protruding from my thigh and my foot appearing as if I lost a fight with an Arkanian dragon. She does not cry, for she has learned not to cry, but her eyes burn all the same. The Sorcerer stands triumphant over my battered body, hands falling to his waist and I sense he is going to do the unthinkable until he stalks off, disappearing from my line of sight.

She is eighteen, and she is _terrified_. She is not frightened for herself – she is frightened for her brother. His body is sprawled limp on the ground, a large shard of debris extending from his stilled chest. The silence is agonizing. I go to call out to my brother and the Sorcerer’s harsh stare silences me as he stands over Rhaezion's unmoving body. _Don’t you dare! Your father will deal with your insolence later_ , his words lash against her like a whip with their finality as he stalks out with her brother’s body. For the next few years, she is led to believe that her brother is dead at her hand… And she is alive, so painfully, _horrifyingly_ alive.

She remembers what happened the last time she defied the Sorcerer, and she is _terrified_ , but she does not reveal it. I could feel the panic start to take hold in him as my cool gaze flickered to my brother’s face. Smartly, she finally stands aside as the Sorcerer passes her by, unconcerned. She is strong, but her power is still not her own. She does not even react as the Sorcerer orders her around, wisely choosing to remain silent.

Rhaezion, always the more respectful of the twins, nods in acknowledgement as the Sorcerer outlines their plan, commanding not only his respect, but also his loyalty. I could see the frown briefly cross the Sorcerer’s flesh bare lips as I gathered my equipment from the cargo hold before our sojourn across the stars. Did he suspect? Did father suspect? It had to be coincidence, she reasoned. “Do not doubt the focus of my attention, Sorcerer.” Rhaezion spoke in a warning tone, belying the true subject of his thoughts. “I have no intention of failing. My father’s goals have been made explicitly clear and the way in which I approach them is my own.” He sits there numb and quiet, following the Sorcerer’s gaze to his sister. He is a man of exquisite control and outwardly refuses to take the bait. Outwardly, cold and quiet and efficient. Inwardly, she starts to feel his control slip, sees his hand tremble. He stands firm, walled off from the darkness, but still she is _terrified._

She had every intention of remaining silent, until the Sorcerer laid eyes upon her and his blood spilled across the pristine deck of the shuttle. “Your host is dying, Sorcerer. Father would be terribly disappointed were you not to witness our triumph.” She said with a taunting smile as she sauntered from the back of the shuttle, her hips swaying just right. This was not for his benefit, but a trap laid for her twin. She is twenty-five now, and she is a princess and a warrior. Rhaezion stands at her side once more, her twin, her lover, her best friend. She would not lose him again, not to the Sorcerer. “I daresay he may even resurrect you, just to send you back to the grave from whence you came.” Iztara said pointedly, her words dripping with venom.

The Dark Prince watched the Sorcerer, his gaze cool and collected, lips curling slightly upwards in one corner. But as his attention focused on his sister – he was worried for her. The effect she had on him took the edge off the rage, off the panic, and he looked at her incredulously as she reached out lightly to brush her hand across his cheek in a reassuring manner. Reaching up, he hesitated as he grasped her hand. His mind briefly entertained thoughts of the myriad ways he would have her upon celebration of their victory. Her mind briefly entertained thoughts of the myriad ways she could ensure the Sorcerer experienced an accident upon celebration of their victory. Flecks of amber spawned in the depths of her eyes and her hand slid from his as she slipped into the pilot’s seat, wordlessly guiding them out into the depths of space and engaging the hyperdrive to exit the system.

It is not long before the shuttlecraft reenters the Coruscant system under a newly minted guise, transponder codes swapped and cleaned before Iztara wordlessly guides them to blend in with descending traffic.

War is coming, and she is prepared.


End file.
